Liberation from the Rising Sun
by Marine3950
Summary: What-if fic meets Alt-Verse fic meets Code Geass. We'll see what happens.
1. History

Prologue to Rebellion

* * *

In 1935, large deposits of a new resource, dubbed Argentium, were discovered on the Island of Sumatra in the Dutch East Indies. Following this, a string of additional large deposits were discovered in Yellowstone National Park, New Zealand's North Island, Northern Chile, and Argentina. Smaller deposits were discovered in Japanese-controlled Korea, the Kamchatka Peninsula, Campi Flegri in Italy, Bennet Lake in British Canada, several islands in Greece, and several Japanese mountains.

In the early morning hours of November 28, 1941, Japanese aircraft based from aircraft carriers carried out two waves of devastating air raids on the United States Pacific Fleet anchored at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. The first caught the _Enterprise _as she was leaving port to carry out training maneuvers, and sank her and her sister ship, _Lexington_, and damaged several battleships, cruisers, destroyers, and other craft, as well as destroying hundreds of aircraft on the ground. The second wave specifically targeted fuel and ammunition storage bunkers, dry dock facilities, and submarine pens, with devastating results.

Hours later, Japanese assaults were carried out almost simultaneously across Asia and the Pacific. The Japanese 5th and 18th divisions launched assaults south into the Malayan Peninsula, with the goal of capturing Singapore, as the 15th Imperial Japanese Army assaulted Burma to the north. Three regiments of Japanese troops forced British troops around Hong Kong to retreat further into the city. Japanese forces began massing around the Philippines, and bombardment of Midway, Wake Island, and Guam began by the Imperial Japanese Navy. These targets would all be under Japanese control before the start of the new year.

1942 saw a devastating string of Allied defeats on land and at sea as the Imperial Japanese forces continued to push them back. Several Chinese cities fell, culminating in the capture of the Nationalist capital at Chongqing. Communist Chinese forces holed up in the Tibetan Plateau began a campaign of guerrilla warfare that would turn Japanese forces away from them. India became the next target on the list, but fiercer British resistance turned away several attacks at a massive price to Japanese forces.

By February of 1942, almost all of the Philippines had fallen under Japanese control, with small pockets of United States and Filipino troops continuing to hold out for another year before accepting defeat and disappearing into the general population.

In May of 1942, a joint Australian-American task force tasked with turning away a Japanese thrust towards Australia is defeated. This marked the loss of United States naval power in the Pacific, and Japanese forces were soon on Australian soil. Australia bravely held out for two months before finally succumbing to Japanese power, and Japan soon held much of the Pacific in its grasp.

At this time, the German invasion of Stalinist Russia was starting to bog down, and Japan, not wishing to divide already thinly-spread forces even further, left the Axis Powers and signed a non-aggression pact with Russia. Russia, initially wary of this agreement, eventually accepted.

With the potential for an attack in their rear taken care of, the Japanese military turned its full attention to the remains of Allied naval power, based in Pearl Harbor. In late June of 1942, the Imperial Japanese Navy collecting at the Midway Islands was ambushed by a collection of American, Australian, British, Dutch, and Chinese vessels. In a massive two-day battle, the joint Allied fleet managed to sink two Japanese carriers, five battleships, and at least a dozen smaller ships before finally succumbing to overwhelming Japanese force.

With the last shreds of naval resistance more than a mile under the sea, Japanese forces landed in Pearl Harbor on July 4th, meeting only token resistance. General of the Army Douglas MacArthur and Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz surrendered to Marshal Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto and General Tadamichi Kuribayashi aboard the Japanese battleship _Yamato_, marking the end of the First Pacific War. However, since Japan had severed its ties with Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy, America and Great Britain were free to continue their war in Europe.

The surrender at Pearl Harbor had several conditions for the US to follow through on. First and foremost was the immediate cessation of internment camps containing Japanese-born Americans. The second was the immediate removal of all intact Allied forces from the Pacific. The third was the removal of trade embargoes that the United States had imposed on Japan. The fourth and final term was that Allied nations were to hand over their Pacific holdings to Japan. The United States, faced with the threat of mainland invasion, was forced to accept, as did Great Britain and the Netherlands.

As Japan turned its attention to its new colonies, American and British forces became more determined than ever to win the war in Europe. Spurred on by their humiliation in the Pacific, American forces landed in Northwestern Africa in January of 1943, determined to make a difference this time around. By April of 1943, American troops in Africa had linked up in Tunisia with British troops from Egypt, and May of 1943 saw Allied troops in Sicily. By June, they were pushing up the Italian Peninsula towards Rome.

Around this time, Russian forces handed German forces a decisive defeat near the town of Kursk. As German forces retreated from the Russian Army, they aided Italian troops in nearly forcing the assaulting Allied troops to stalemate at a series of heavily-fortified defensive lines. Only concerted amphibious and airborne operations behind established enemy lines succeeded in finally breaking the stalemate.

In 1944, Allied forces had Germany in a choke hold. Russian forces were pushing their way through Eastern Europe. American and British soldiers were pushing up through Italy. In May of 1944, Allied forces were beginning to build up for a decisive military operation into France that would succeed in freeing the country and establishing an Allied foothold in mainland Europe.

In early June, the opportunity came. Over two million Allied troops of all different nationalities executed the largest single naval operation in history. On June 6, 1944, Allied troops landed in the south of France, near the port of Cannes. This amphibious assault bypassed the formidable Atlantic Wall that had been established along France's northern coasts, and the German troops assembled there. With only token resistance from the Vichy Government established by Germany in 1940, Allied forces moved quickly through southern France, and, with pressure from two sides, the final lines of Italian resistance were quickly dismembered.

With German forces quickly moving south to combat the new threat, a climactic battle was set to happen. And happen it did, in the streets of Orléans. From early September to late November, Allied troops and German forces fought a brutal battle at close-quarters. Every street was a firing zone, every house a sniper's hide or machine gun nest. For three months, the historic French city was a meat grinder, claiming an average of one life every thirty seconds for nearly eighty days.

In early December, Germany had pulled out of France altogether, and Allied forces were in hot pursuit of them. However, even while under assault from two sides, German forces managed to successfully hold out against the Allied forces until spring came in April. In April of 1945, Soviet forces had taken Berlin, and Hitler was discovered to be dead. The war was over.

However, tensions soon flared between the victors of the Second World War. Three superpowers had emerged from the conflict: The Imperial Japanese Empire of the Rising Sun; the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, and the newly-formed North Atlantic Treaty Organization, consisting of the United States, Canada, Great Britain, Portugal, France, Spain, and western Germany.

Soon, the world was engulfed in yet another war, this one fought by three sides. Europe was once again a battleground, and, in June of 1950, Japanese troops were fighting on American soil. Landing in southern California, Japanese troops moved quickly on an exhausted American populace, utilizing frightening new technology: Mashin no Senshi – Machine Warriors, powerful, fifteen-foot mechanized suits of armor, powered by Argentium. These new and devastating weapons cut swiftly through whatever the American military threw at them. By 1951, Japanese forces had taken over everything west of the Rocky Mountains, and were moving across the Rockies.

It was around this time that Soviet forces began charging into Southern Europe, seemingly intent on capturing Greece and Italy, NATO member-states where Argentium had been discovered. This sudden attack into Europe prevented America's European allies from coming to its aid. It appeared that the whole of America would be consigned to rule under the Imperial Japanese flag.

However, it was not to be. In the spring of 1951, on the banks of the Mississippi River, near St Louis, American General of the Army Douglas McArthur gave America a miracle. For the first time since the start of what would be called the Second Pacific War, Japan was defeated. Its powerful mechanized army had been stopped at the banks of the Mississippi.

However, the damage was done. Millions of Americans were dead, and dozens of millions more were now at the mercy of their conquerors. America's only Argentium Deposit at Yellowstone was now far behind enemy lines. Japan was content recoup its losses and prepare for a second strike.

That was when American military leadership snapped. With no other option to prevent the fall of what was left of their country, on August 7, 1951, three nuclear weapons were dropped on key Japanese positions in the United States Midwest, in Operation Sunset. The death toll was staggering: at least a quarter-million Japanese troops were killed by the nuclear weapons, with more than half a million more severely injured.

August saw Japanese and American leadership begin negotiations for a cease-fire. Finally, in early October, after two months of tensions along the Mississippi Demilitarized Zone, Japan and America signed a cease-fire agreement that would call to an end all hostilities.

Meanwhile, in Europe, Russian forces succeeded in capturing the Balkan Peninsula, but were beaten back from Italy. Here, there was no true end to hostilities for another year, with intermittent skirmishes continuing until January of 1952.

In February of 1952, the nations of Central and South America joined together to form the South Pacific Defensive Alliance, to protect themselves from Japan to the north and west. A similar alliance was formed by the countries of the Middle East to protect themselves from Russia and Japan to the North and East, the Arabian Mutual Protection Pact.

In early spring of 1953, Russia unveiled their version of the Mashin no Senshi, the BGA (literally, Armored Humanoid Vehicle). NATO Europe followed suit that fall with the Italian Cataphract.

For the next ten years, a tense lack of combat reigned over the world, only to be broken by Communist Chinese forces from the Tibetan Plateau, operating (Russian Frames). For the next ten years, Japan would be embroiled in a tedious guerrilla war against the remains of China's forces: The third Sino-Japanese war. This war would end in 1973, with Japanese troops pulling out of Tibet, and reluctantly acknowledging the People's Republic of Tibet as an independent nation.

The pace quickened. Argentium, already acknowledged as a powerful fuel in a raw state, could be purified to be made into more potent fuels, and the by-products were shown to have a variety of uses. One was shown to be a powerful conductor of electricity. Another surpassed depleted uranium as a material for weapons and armor.

The year is 1980. The world is in a complex political state. Japan and the USSR are trading blows in minor skirmishes along their border, but the situation has yet to escalate into full-blown warfare. The United States of America have recently established trade deals with the SPDA to obtain Argentium for peaceful use in generators and a thriving global information network based in America. NATO and the Soviet Sphere are on slightly better terms than in the past, but relations are still tense.

It is in this world that our story begins...


	2. Agents of Change

Were their features not disguised by their helmets, the pair riding down the turnpike would have looked more out-of-place to anyone watching. On the motorcycle, an American, twenty-two years old, his short brown hair and sharp brown eyes covered by the helmet. His leather jacket bore three patches. The one sewn into the right chest area identified him as an honorary citizen of the Empire of the Rising Sun. The one sewn into the left shoulder identified him as a member of the Japanese 4th Mechanized Division, 6th Battalion, C Company, an all-volunteer unit that called itself the "Cancer Company," a fitting name considering that all of C Company's members came from around the radioactive urban ruins of Wichita. The joke was that the cancer would kill you before you got to see any sort of excitement, but medical technology had reduced cancer death tolls significantly in the last few years. The Velcro on his right arm denoted him a Corporal.

The girl in the sidecar of his motorcycle was two years his junior, but outranked him by a huge margin. She was the commanding officer of the 6th Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel Hideyura Sakura. She was something of a prodigy in the Imperial Army, with a long line of distinguished military service. Her grandfather was one of few airmen who could claim to have seen the _Lexington_ sunk at Pearl Harbor and the _Yorktown_ sunk at Midway. In fact, he could boast that he had landed a blow against both carriers. Her father had been a commander of the Mashin no Senshi who distinguished himself with several tours of service in Tibet.

Sakura was about two inches shorter than her driver, and about fifty pounds lighter. Her bright blue eyes and shoulder-length black hair were tucked into her helmet.

"How was your tour of the campus, Corporal?" Sakura asked in Japanese.

"Speaking cordially or frankly, Ma'am?" Came the drilled reply, in impeccable Japanese.

"Frankly." Sakura replied.

Corporal Andrew Joseph Wurzer sighed. "In a word? Hell. In theory, integrated schools are a good idea, but in practice, it's an absolute nightmare. My Japanese classmates look down on me like I'm garbage, and my honorary status marks me as a traitor among my American peers. Honestly, I'm dreading having to move into the dorms." Andrew saw his exit coming up, and maneuvered into the correct lane, driving slowly to avoid losing traction on the roads, still wet from a recent thunderstorm. Behind him, an 18-wheeler did the same.

Sakura nodded. "Stick with it and distinguish yourself. That's how you earned your promotion."

"No, I earned my promotion by recklessly endangering myself to save others." Andrew pointed out. "Call it heroism all you want. We all know it was sheer stupidity and dumb luck."

Sakura shook her head. "I suppose that's the difference between you Americans and we Japanese. You care only for others. Sometimes, it seems like we care only for ourselves."

Andrew was about to rebut that when the semi behind him jack-knifed and started sliding. Andrew switched lanes quickly and barely got out of the way of the semi as it went off the road and down the embankment, stopping in the drainage ditch below.

Andrew maneuvered to the top of the road, looking down at the wrecked semi below. Quickly, he put down the kickstand of his bike, and started down the embankment towards the truck.

"You're disobeying protocol again." Sakura said with a sigh, audible through the two-way intercom built into the helmets. "You know perfectly well that those two might be wanted terrorists. Saving them would mean aiding fugitives and hampering a military investigation, and is punishable with-"

"Up to twenty years on an Imperial Labor Team, and fines up to 100,000 in our currency, or about 15,000 in yours. If they are discovered to be wanted for crimes against the Emperor, I can be executed without trial." Andrew sighed as he made his way towards the cab. "And you're disobeying protocol by not reporting my actions. That's enough ground for a court martial and demotion." He paused to pick the lock on the cab door, then continued. "Besides, you're just as worried about these guys as I am, and you know that playing the bureaucracy to get the plates on that vehicle is five to ten minutes that an ambulance could be driving down here, especially when the nearest major hospital is on the other side of the DMZ."

The inside of the cab was wrecked. Broken glass was everywhere. The two people inside looked pretty bad, but the injuries seemed to be mostly superficial. They'd have a couple of scars, but they'd live, assuming that they got medical help to prevent infections from forming. He pulled off his helmet and pulled out his phone, then dialed the number for emergency medical services.

"Two Japanese males, middle-aged. Mostly superficial injuries, but in large quantities. Need medical assistance immediately." He then gave his name, rank, and location, and added, "Please hurry."

* * *

Once they were back in motion, Andrew started asking questions. "So, Practical Advanced Combat Tactics, Year Two, huh?"

Sakura nodded. "They wanted someone young, with a new take on the battlefield. A puppy, instead of an old war dog."

"You don't have any real battlefield experience, though." Andrew pointed out. "And an S in the sims can only get you so far."

Sakura paused for a moment, then spoke. "I'll have some combat experience soon enough."

It took every ounce of self-control Andrew had not to slam on the brakes and turn around.

"You took the post?" He was so surprised that his question came out in English, and he had to repeat it in Japanese.

"I did. It works out fairly well, too. The first month of the class is just reviewing Year One. I'll be back in time to teach the new stuff."

"But time on the Russian front? That's not the kind of post you take just to get some combat experience in!"

"It's not just for combat experience." She admitted. "My grandfather passed recently. His funeral is in a week. I want to be near my family as they go through this."

"I see." Andrew said. "I'm sorry for your loss. I know that you were close to your grandfather."

She nodded. "Thank you for your condolences."

They remained silent for the rest of the ride. When they reached the base, they flashed their IDs to the soldiers on duty, and were waved in. Andrew drove to the officers' quarters and dropped Sakura off there before leaving the base again and heading home.

* * *

He didn't live in the radioactive ruins of Wichita itself, but in the over-packed suburbs around it. Wichita itself was still considered too hazardous to live in, but that didn't stop the truly desperate from staking their claims there. The situation that they lived in also didn't keep anti-Japanese partisans from making trouble whenever they could. If anything, the lack of official support for the area only served to inflame the local populace, which seemed to be up in arms every other day, raiding some small arms depot or ambushing an unguarded transport, maybe sabotaging some mostly unused line of transport. In retrospect, it was probably these little slights that kept the Japanese from lending support, which only served to fuel the cycle of retribution and denial.

He lived in a comparatively friendly neighborhood, where violence seemed to be restricted to a weekly basis rather than a daily one. However, that didn't stop the vandals from working on his home. Andrew had learned long ago to keep all of his valuables on him when he left for work, and never went to bed without making sure that his handgun was loaded and within arm's reach.

Of course, he didn't have many valuables to begin with. The only things that were really worth anything were the IJA Military-Issue motorcycle, the M1911 Colt .45, combat knife, and dogtags his dad had left him, and his mom's wedding ring.

He walked the bike up the driveway to the garage door, ignoring the stares he was getting from the families camped out on the long-neglected lawn. He knew what they were thinking. "One more day, then there'll be room in the garage for us." He'd moved out of the house itself a while back, reminding himself that he didn't need four bedrooms. Tomorrow, he'd head to school, and move into the dorms there, freeing up space for another family. It wasn't like he was eager to leave the place. There were too many memories here. But he wasn't going to live in two places.

He walked into the garage, put down the bike's kickstand, and closed the door. Then, he turned to the one piece of furniture he'd bothered to take from the house: a bureau from his parents' room that he kept his clothes in, but that he valued for the mirror. Looking in the mirror, he pulled his jacket and shirt off, and looked over his body.

With the shirt on, you couldn't see the scars. With it off, his entire torso seemed to be populated with them. The one from a 5.56mm round that pierced his body armor and somehow missed his ribs, lung and heart. The stab scar from an assailant's knife that nearly rendered his left shoulder inoperable. Each scar told a story, but the one that most people tended to ask about was the massive discoloration across his stomach.

That was how he'd gotten his promotion, he'd tell them. It was his first patrol through Wichita. The radioactive ruins were a great place for people to hide from the law, so every now and then, it was necessary to go in and root the criminals and rebels out. His first patrol had seen him caught in a firefight with a particularly determined bunch of resistors. The initial round of fire had the entire patrol rushing for cover, and Andrew had ended up with a handful of officers hiding behind a brick wall.

Had the homemade grenade been a fragmentation grenade packed with ball-bearings, or a pure high-explosive weapon, Andrew had no doubts that jumping on it would have denied him any sort of funeral. However, the device was an incendiary weapon, and a poorly-designed one at that. When it went off, it just spat fire across his stomach. The heat melted his body armor to his skin, and the surgery required had him hospitalized for three weeks, but he'd survived to be promoted for bravery in combat.

That event earned him some respect among his Japanese peers, who then noticed his aptitude for tactics. One of them told him about a school nearby that had an officer training program. He decided to give it a chance.

However, assuming that he got through the officer training, Andrew knew that he'd never make it past lieutenant. He was too headstrong, too emotionally connected to the world around him. He'd never be able to see soldiers as resources. He'd been brought up to help others.

He put his shirt and jacket back on, packed his clothes into a suitcase, and put that suitcase into his sidecar. He'd miss this place, but, with luck, he'd be able to bring up a family of his own, and make new memories.

* * *

Out of habit, he took his motorcycle down through Wichita's ruins. Half of the city had been completely leveled by the blast, and the other half was severely damaged. In his experience, so long as he stuck to the side roads, he wouldn't draw much attention to himself. Even so, looking around, he remembered the devastation that had been wrought in the Second Pacific War. This same level of destruction had been committed by the Japanese along the West Coast. Millions of civilians killed. Millions more trapped west of the Mississippi DMZ. Americans lived in fear of getting caught in the crossfire between the Imperial Japanese Military and any of the resistance groups that were still fighting for freedom.

But while Andrew agreed with the ideas and goals of the resistance groups, he despised the execution. They simply annoyed the Japanese, never looking very far past the day. Their efforts would be undone in a week, and they often caught the civilians they claimed to be helping in the crossfire. Andrew longed for the day when the Star-Spangled Banner would fly over all of America once again, but it would take a drastic change in the ideology to make it happen. What was needed was-

A burst of automatic weapons fire broke him out of his thoughts. Quickly, more gunshots exploded ahead of him. Up ahead, a Japanese convoy was coming under intense fire from buildings on either side of the street, the Mashin no Senshi attached to it returning fire against unseen foes. Andrew quickly drove into a back alley, and tried to take stock of his situation. He was alone, lightly armed, and hopelessly outnumbered. But, he'd still make an effort. He was making a splash in the military. The Japanese were starting to respect his bravery, his courage. He wouldn't give them a reason to doubt him. He'd take every opportunity to further himself. The higher he went, the more changes he could make.

After taking off his helmet, Andrew started steeling himself for the charge. He checked the chamber of his weapon, and counted to three. Then, he threw himself out of the alley, towards the convoy.

Bullets started hitting the ground around him as he ran, zigzagging at irregular intervals to confuse their fire. Shrapnel from the road cut at his lower legs, but he kept running towards the cargo vehicle in the convoy, its cargo doors open and its bay empty. When he reached it, he used it for cover, and peered around the open door.

A bullet grazed his forehead, causing him to grunt in pain as he recoiled. He was pinned down, and shit out of luck.

There was a hiss as a rocket fired, and a shockwave as it impacted. A second hiss and explosion followed quickly, with a third, larger explosion as one of the Mashin no Senshi's argentium power cell overheated and detonated violently. The situation was devolving. A favorite saying of his father's ran through his head. "Discretion is the better part of valor." There was nothing more that he could do here, and every second he was here was another second he could die. He needed to get out of here, now.

He looked around for an exit plan, when his eyes fell on a fallen form. Her white clothing was in stark contrast to the black and gray of the buildings around them. A dark red pool was slowly spreading under her barely moving form.

He didn't give himself any time to debate whether or not it as a good idea. He just acted on instinct. Holstering his pistol, he rushed forwards, moving erratically to avoid the bullets hitting around him. Making it there uninjured, he scooped up the injured girl, holding her in his arms as he kept running.

"Who... who are you?" She whispered in English.

"I'm a friend." Andrew replied. "Stay with me, alright? You're badly hurt. I'm getting you some help."

"Th... thank you."

Andrew stumbled and fell, but picked himself and the girl back up, and kept running until he made it to the bike. He set the girl down in the sidecar, put his helmet on, and shot out of the ambush zone.

* * *

Once he was a decent distance away from the firefight, he pulled into another alleyway, and pulled the girl out of the sidecar. She was bleeding from a gunshot wound that entered her lower back and came out through her stomach. Andrew opened up his suitcase, and tore up one of his shirts to use to try to stem the bleeding, wrapping her wound as well as his limited first-aid training enabled him.

"That'll hold you up for a little bit." Andrew said, picking her back up. "We've got to get you to a hospital."

"You... you're hurt, too." She said, looking at his side. He looked to see a bloody crater, and realized that it was why he'd stumbled. He was about to rip up another shirt when he felt something cold touch his side. Warmth filled his body. The general soreness in his muscles disappeared, and he felt rejuvenated.

He looked to see the girl's bloody hands clutching her own wound. Did she have something to do with it?

"Why help me?" She asked, her voice weaker than before.

"Because I'm stupid, reckless, and care too much about others." Andrew responded.

She laughed weakly. "You're a good soul. You could change the world."

It was Andrew's turn to laugh. "I'm a little guy in a big man's world. I don't have the power to change the world."

"What if you could get that power?" She asked. "How would you improve on yourself?"

"I'd listen to the hurt of others." Andrew replied instantly. "I want to know how to help them."

"Even at the cost of feeling that pain?" She asked seriously.

Andrew nodded. "Yes. I don't care if I have to feel their hurt. If I can help them, I will."

"Are you willing to become hated?" She asked. "What if your motives were forever misunderstood?"

"I'm not looking for recognition. I don't care if it costs me my life and legacy. If I die knowing that I've truly helped the world, I'll have no regrets." He paused, then looked at the girl. "Why are you asking these questions?"

She smiled. "I... I can give you that power, if you'll grant me a wish in return."

He paused. "What wish?"

"I... I've done some things in my life that I'm not proud of." She admitted. "Things that haunt me to this day. I can't go back and undo the past, so help me forget."

"How?" Andrew asked.

"Kiss me." She said. "That's all I ask. Think of it as a dying girl's last request."

Andrew nodded, and leaned over her body. His lips brushed against hers...

And his life changed forever.


	3. Combat

In many ways, it was a lot like being shot full of electricity, but in just as many ways, it was nothing like that. For what seemed like an eternity, he simply sat there, his lips touching hers. He wasn't able to move, but his muscles weren't spasmodic, or even tense. Just the opposite, everything in his body seemed to relax as warmth encompassed him.

Then, as soon as it started, it was over. He looked at the girl. Her eyes were closed. There was no pulse. He hated the idea of leaving her there, but driving around with a corpse in his sidecar would raise too many questions, none of which he was prepared to answer. So, he left her there, and continued on down the road, this time skirting Wichita instead of traveling straight through.

He made his way to the campus, on the other side of the city, and found a parking space a few rows away from the parking spaces reserved for Japanese citizens and military personnel. He knew that those were magnets for vandals. Satisfied, he pulled out his map of the campus and made his way to the dorms. Technically, school wouldn't start for another week, and people weren't supposed to move in for another two days, but military personnel had first pick of the dorms, a privilege that he intended to use.

He'd looked around earlier, during their orientation today, and found a person who was interested in rooming with him. He found his room, and used his key to unlock the door.

Inside, the room was sparsely furnished. A bunk bed along the far wall, with a window looking out to the east, Wichita's ruins visible through it. His roommate had moved in earlier, as evidenced by the two bags in the corner of the room, and the few personal effects spread throughout the room. Andrew dropped his bag off in the other corner, and pulled his shirt and bandaging off to inspect his injury.

It was gone. The only evidence that he'd even been wounded was the dry blood caked around his side. Gingerly, he tested the area with his hand. There was no pain. He checked his forehead, where a bullet had grazed him earlier. Nothing. Grabbing a change of clothes, he headed to the washroom to clean himself off.

Thankfully, there was no one else there, so he wasn't asked any questions about the blood as he washed it away. After he'd cleaned himself off, he returned to his dorm, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_A dark fog concealing everything in the distance, with so many dark emotions attached to it. Fear. Confusion. Disgust. Hate. The only things visible were directly ahead. Then, a moment of clarity. A gentle kiss. A savior's embrace. A face. A kind smile and caring eyes. This nameless face had a deluge of positive emotions attached to it. Hope. Trust. Faith. Love. This nameless face was a safe haven in a sea of doubt and despair. It had to be found._

* * *

The dream was still fresh in the girl's mind as she woke. She sat up and looked around, wondering where she was. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. How had she gotten here?

Memories flashed through her mind. The convoy. The ambush. The door swinging open. Running for her chance at freedom. The sharp pain of a bullet throwing her to the ground. Her savior taking her away. All of the emotions collided at once. But more questions arose from that memory. Why had she been locked up in the truck? Why had they shot at her? She gently prodded her bandaged injury, expecting pain. But there was none.

There was a noise behind her. She turned to see a soldier, assault rifle in hand, held with the barrel pointed down. The girl focused her attention the soldier. She was speaking in an unrecognized language, and the girl cocked her head in confusion. The soldier understood this gesture, and switched from Japanese to English. "I'm a friend. Here to help."

The girl nodded, and smiled. "Thank you." She replied. "Where am I?"

"Wichita." The soldier replied. "My name is Taki."

The girl nodded. "I'm..." Then she fell silent. Her name. What was her name? She couldn't remember. Why couldn't she remember her own name? Nothing came to her. Not even her initials.

"You're hurt." Taki replied. "We need to get you some help. Can you walk?"

The girl stood up. "I'm fine. Someone else already helped me."

Taki looked at her with doubt, but sighed and nodded. "At least come with us. This area isn't safe. Just consider yourself lucky that we found you. The IJA is combing Wichita again. There have been skirmishes throughout the city for the past few hours. It won't be long before it erupts into full combat."

The girl nodded. She felt like she could trust Taki. She was nice, like the one that had saved her earlier. Still, though, try as she might, she couldn't remember her name.

Taki walked back out of the alley, and waved for her to follow. She did. Parked in the street was a pick-up truck, with a .50 caliber heavy machine gun on a mount in the bed. The soldier on the machine gun nodded to the girl as Taki opened the door for her. She got into the car, and closed the door behind her. Taki went around the front of the car and got into the driver's seat, then put on her seat belt. The girl did the same. In the window of the car, she could see herself.

Her hair was dark blue and long, reaching down to her back. Her eyes were the same blue, but shined with a brilliance that she faintly remembered, but couldn't place.

Taki started the car and began to drive. "You know, in all of this excitement, I never caught your name."

The girl blushed. "I... I don't remember my name."

Taki frowned. "You don't?"

The girl shook her head. "No. I don't remember anything about my past. My name. Where I live. Nothing."

Taki sighed. "That's rough. We know that you're American, though. You picked up on the English instead of the Japanes I tried first."

The girl nodded. "I'm sorry."

Taki shook her head. "Don't be. It's not your fault you can't remember anything." The girl smiled, and Taki smiled back. "You should smile more often." She said, looking at the girl. "It's a very nice smile."

The girl blushed. "Thank you."

Taki nodded, and turned back forwards-

Just in time to drive right into a nightmare.

* * *

There was no way that Andrew would have been able to afford coming here normally. Even all of the financial aid that he received from his military service and his honorary citizenship only barely got him by. In order to even consider living a somewhat decent life, he needed to find a decent job in addition to his military paycheck. So, while he was here at the academy, he would be working before and after school as a member of the maintenance staff.

However, he was still an enlisted man, and that meant, after 4:30, he left school grounds and made a fifteen-minute commute from the school to the military base where the 4th Mechanized was based.

Today was their adrenaline fix, the Murder Maze: a patrol that would take them through Wichita's streets on a search for terrorist activity. The battalion served a rotating schedule, and this week had Cancer Company and Danger Company walking the Maze.

This one was different, though. There had been intermittent combat all night and all morning, and C and D Companies were to be reinforcements.

Which brought Andrew to his ride inside of a cramped Iron Turtle APC, along with the other eight men under his direct command. Two of them were armed with standard-issue SMG-9 submachine guns. Two were armed with AR-68 assault rifles, with GR-40 underbarrel grenade launchers. Another pair of men were armed with KKJ-762 light machine guns. The other two men under his command were armed with AMR-127 long-ranged rifles chambering .50 caliber rounds. Andrew himself had an AR-556 carbine in addition to his M1911 and combat knife.

The ride was a thirty-five minute sweat-fest from the base to their start point just inside of the city. Their nine-man squad started moving along their route, followed by the Iron Turtle that would serve as their focal point. On top of the APC was a gunner, unattached to the squad, manning a 15mm chaingun. However, despite not having an official affiliation with the squad, both the APC's gunner and driver had worked with them on several other occasions, and were practically a part of the squad.

The Maze was uneventful for ten of the eleven soldiers. The eleventh, Andrew, who had been feeling weird since he'd woken up that morning, had complained of a migraine and retired to the APC. In reality, he was understating it. He was surprised that he'd managed to make it back into the APC's hold in the first place. He felt like a nervous wreck, and was amazed that he didn't break down then and there.

The longer he sat there, though, the more he realized why he felt so worked up. There were other thoughts in his head. No, thoughts wasn't the right word. They were just emotions. Two, really: Anxiety, and fear. A little bit of worry worked its way into the impulses, but it was mostly those two. Not his own, either, but he couldn't place where they were coming from, exactly. Now that he knew the cause, though, he started to get his act together. They weren't his own emotions. He was pretty sure of that. On a hunch, he got out of the APC, and got onto the squad's radio.

"Don't worry about me, guys. I'm fine. Let's just keep our heads on straight and get through this thing. We've done it a million times before. Let's make this a million and one."

That seemed to lessen the load of negativity that he was receiving, and solved one mystery: The impulses were coming from his squad. But it opened up so many more questions, and Andrew didn't have the answers for them.

* * *

They'd run right into a foot patrol centered around an APC. For a second, Taki froze. In that second, the pickup rammed right into the APC. The impact flung the gunner off his mount, over the cab, and onto the APC, before sliding off the vehicle to the ground, unconscious. Inside the truck, Taki and the girl jerked forwards, caught by their seat belts and the airbags. Taki moaned, and held her nose, which was bleeding. The girl rubbed the spot where the seat belt had bruised her chest.

Someone yelled in that foreign language the girl didn't understand. Taki did, though. "Get out of the car, slowly." She said.

"Why?" The girl asked. "What's happening?"

"These guys aren't friendly." Taki explained. "If you don't do what they say, they'll kill you. Understand?"

The girl nodded, and slowly got out of the car, as did Taki. The soldiers threw the girl to the ground. Taki yelled something in their language, something that she didn't understand. She felt something clasp around her wrists, binding them together. Then, she was brought back to her feet, and led towards the back of the APC. She followed Taki in, and they closed the door behind them.

"What's going to happen to us?" The girl asked.

"They'll let you go once they establish that you're not connected to anything that we do." Taki said.

"What about you, though?" The girl asked.

"They'll find me guilty of crimes against the Empire, and I'll be executed without trial."

The girl's eyes widened. "What?"

Taki sighed. "There are some people who deserve that fate. But I'm not one of them. I've done nothing but help people. We've got guns to protect ourselves from the IJA, from people who seem more interested in furthering themselves, and from so-called "revolutionaries" who really just exploit the bottom."

"Then you shouldn't be killed!" The girl said resolutely. "You're a good person! They can't kill you because you're trying to help!"

Taki shook her head. "They're killing me because I decided not to sit down and accept my fate. If fighting a corrupt military for the good of others means signing my own death warrant, then at least I got the chance to pick my coffin in advance."

Taki smiled as she pulled her hands out from behind her back, freed from her cuffs with the aid of a metal pin. "But the undertaker's going to have to wait. I'm not dying today."

The girl smiled as Taki undid her cuffs. The girl rubbed her wrists, then watched as Taki started fiddling with the lock on the inside of the APC's armored doors. She got the lock off, but the girl stopped her.

"What?" Taki asked.

"They're still here, aren't they?" The girl asked. "If we go now, we'll just get caught again, and this time, if they bother to capture us, they'll have a guard in here. If they bother to capture us."

Taki sighed. "You're right. But how long will we have to wai-"

* * *

A burst of automatic weapons fire sounded nearby, followed quickly by even more fire. Suddenly, the emotions changed. Anticipation. Adrenaline. The patrol started picking up speed as it moved towards the source of fire, with Andrew on point. They didn't get far before running into a pair of women each about as old as Andrew, maybe a bit younger. One was well-built, muscular, wearing a red shirt and faded jeans, brown work boots, and a leather jacket. Her brown hair was cut at her shoulders, and her features were distinctly Japanese.

The other, Andrew recognized almost immediately. Same blue hair. Same white clothes. She was even still wearing the torn shirt around her waist. But she couldn't be alive, could she? Andrew had left her dead in an alley. He'd checked her pulse. She hadn't been breathing.

Andrew's face was covered by his military-issue Command and Control helmet, a modified variant of the Advanced Combat Awareness models the rest of his squad had on. He was glad that the girl couldn't recognize him. That made things slightly less awkward.

"Freeze! On your knees!" Andrew yelled in English, repeating the order in Japanese as he raised his weapon. Both of the girls stopped, and went to their knees. Then, Andrew saw something that made wish he hadn't given that order.

"Shit! Girls, move this way!" Andrew dropped to a knee, and fired a three round burst into the window of a building up the street, killing the terrorist inside who was about to fire a rocket at the APC further up the road.

The two girls started running forwards on his command. As soon as they got close, Andrew got off of his knee and started moving backwards, covering their retreat with bursts of fire as terrorists started coming out of the buildings and onto the streets. "Get behind the APC!" He commanded. "Squad, split into fireteams!"

His squad split up into two four man fireteams, moving to either side of the street to find cover as the 15mm chaingun started chewing up asphalt, concrete, flesh, and bone.

Behind the APC, Andrew got onto the general frequency. "Corporal Andrew Wurzer, sitrep Red!" He said in Japanese. "Two patrol squads pinned down by heavy enemy fire! Requesting immediate close air support on location, with follow up armor! Mission is danger close, guns only! I have noncoms on me and friendlies east of position, past targets!" He motioned for the girls to get down as he took a knee himself, waiting for the response.

"Copy that, Corporal. Satellite has your location. We have a pair of Mamushi moving on your position for CAS, ETA zero and twenty. Nearest armor support is two and thirty out. Three Puredetazu."

The KKS-12 Mamushi, called the Viper by its American pilots, was a sleek, almost organic-looking craft, with twin rotors housed in wings flanking the main body. Mounted forward, behind the two-seat cockpit, was a pair of launch units that carried nineteen unguided rockets each, and directly forward of the cockpit was a 20mm variant of the chaingun on the APC.

Andrew looked at the girls. He handed the Japanese one his M1911, and the other got his knife. Then, he pulled the girls along with him as he rushed towards a nearby building to get them out of the line of fire. Seconds later, the Vipers were on the scene, their 20mm guns joining the cacophony of fire below.

There was a hiss as a missile streaked skywards from a window across the street, and an explosion as the guided weapon impacted one of the Vipers, turning it into a fireball. The other Viper trained its sights on the target, and loosed a barrage of rockets towards the source of the streak. A series of explosions sounded, and the Viper started pulling away, out of the range of the enemy fire. It would be at least two minutes before the MnS-5 Puredetazu (Hunter) mechs would get here. Andrew looked over to the two girls he was in the building with...

And saw the terrorist pulling his gun up to shoot. "Girls! Down!" He started raising his own weapon to shoot, but he knew that he was too late. The terrorist would get his shots off first. They were going to die.


	4. Student Activities

Time seemed to slow down for her. Everything seemed so clear. She could smell the smoke and blood drifting in from outside. Her mouth was dry. She felt the weight of the knife in her hand, the impact of her feet on the floor, the sharp, adrenaline-dulled sting of the bullet piercing her shoulder. She could hear her own heart beating faster in her chest, her feet on the floor as she ran, the sickening sound of the knife plunging deep into the man's gut, before she ripped it to the side, tearing through flesh and clothes as viscera spilled forth.

Then, everything sped up again. The man fell to the ground, his rifle clattering on the floor, as blood and gore began to flow. The girl delivered a vicious kick to the side of his head, knocking him out and silencing his screams. Taki came and scooped up the rifle, and handed the pistol back to its owner, who took it and holstered it.

"Are you alright?" The man asked.

She nodded. "Yes, I'll be fine."

"Bullshit, you're shot." He said. "We need a medic!"

She shook her head. "I'll be fine. There are people worse off than me right now."

Andrew sighed and nodded. "Alright, but stay close." He turned to the Japanese woman, who now held an American-made M14 battle rifle. "Cover my six. I'll take point." As he said this, he started moving up the stairs, carbine at the ready. He came up to the landing, and swept his field of vision.

A corpse was slumped partway out the window, dead from counter fire. He moved to the window, and looked out of it, scanning for targets.

He didn't see any. What he saw were the three MnS-5 Hunters he'd called for, firing their heavy 30mm autocannons at some unseen targets. Andrew sighed in relief. "Squad, fall back to the APC and prepare for further orders."

He received affirmative calls from his whole force, and turned back to the two girls. "Come with me. We need to get you medical attention."

The girl nodded. "Thank you."

"What are your names?" Andrew asked.

"I'm Taki." the Japanese one said. "This is Naomi."

Andrew nodded. So the girl had a name now. "Stay close."

* * *

They made their way to the APC, where the squad was already assembled. Andrew turned to one of the grenadiers, and told him to administer medical aid. The soldier nodded, put down his rifle, and went into the APC, coming back out with a medical kit.

By now, Taki noticed, the sounds of combat had drifted further away. Her mind was racing. She was practically home free now. She just needed to wait for 'Naomi' to get her medical aid, and they could get out of here.

But where would they go? They couldn't head into Wichita. That'd be a death sentence. Maybe she could-

"Your friend is all patched up and good to go." Taki looked to see the soldier, Andrew, with Naomi at his side.

Taki smiled, and nodded. "Thank you, corporal." She said. "Now, we should probably get out of here before the fighting swings back to us."

Andrew nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right." He started walking towards Taki, passing in front of Naomi.

* * *

The sharp crack of the rifle and the bullet's impact seemed simultaneous to Andrew. Then, blinding pain filled his mind as the nerves in his right shoulder fired off in protest of the foreign presence of the bullet fragments. He fell to the ground, even as cries of "Ambush!" and "Sniper!" filled the air, joined quickly by the clattering of automatic weapons fire, the sharp cracks of sniper fire, and the dull thump and successive blast of grenades. Intertwined into this cacophony were the screams. Soldiers yelling out to coordinate, or in pain as Andrew was. Slowly, the pain faded as the adrenaline in his body started kicking in. As his vision faded, he idly mused that this was going to be another scar. The last thing he saw before everything went black was Naomi's panicked face.

* * *

Taki had the M-14 up the second she heard the rifle's shot. She scanned the windows of the buildings on either side of her, and swore. They'd been repopulated very quickly, she noticed. The three Hunter mechs strafed the windows with autocannon fire, reducing wood, metal and masonry to splinters, scrap and rubble. Joining in were the soldiers on the ground, picking targets as they could, prioritizing heavy enemy weapons, especially anything that could render their armored aid inoperable.

The irony of her situation didn't escape her. Here she was, a Japanese member of an American liberation movement fighting alongside American members of the Imperial Japanese Military. Last week, she'd been the poor sap on the other side of her sights. In another week, that'd be her again. However, she felt no remorse as she moved from one target to the next. No pity as she shot at the fighters in the windows above. No, she only felt the recoil of her rifle. They were trying to kill her. She rather enjoyed being alive. It was that simple.

Slowly, the fighting petered out, and eventually stopped altogether. By that point, several other squads had converged on their position, which had become something of a focal point in the operation, or so Taki understood from the conversations she overheard. She looked around, and eventually found Naomi, still huddled close next to Andrew. She hobbled over, favoring her left leg after having taken a shot to her right.

Up above, an IHK-12 Medical Evacuation craft began its approach. The few wounded in the area, including Andrew, Naomi, and Taki were shepherded aboard.

* * *

Andrew woke up slowly. Everything ached, seeming to protest his return to consciousness. He groaned, and slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings.

Naomi was close by, sleeping in a chair, still wearing the white garment he'd seen on her the first time they'd run into each other, a new red blotch added to her shoulder. Also in the room was Taki, relieved of the weapons she'd had earlier and sporting a splint over her right leg, watching Andrew. Nearby, the steady beep of a monitor seemed to display that all was well within him, even though there was some definite stiffness

"Glad to see you two are alright." He said. "How long have I been here?"

"About two days." Taki said. "Docs say that you'll be out of here in no time, but you sure as hell won't be shooting anything for a bit."

* * *

Those two days came and went faster than Andrew thought possible. Soon, he was out of the hospital, and the day after he was back to work on the campus maintenance team, keeping bushes trimmed, flowerbeds vibrant, and windows clean.

It was while he was working on repairing one of the campus' external security cameras that he heard footsteps approaching. He spared just enough attention to the intruder to notice his Japanese features, then turned his full attention to the man. "The front office is along this path." Andrew said in Japanese. "You'll need to sign in there."

"Continue with your work, please." The man said in flawless English. "I'd like to see my potential recruit working in one of his natural trades."

"Really?" Andrew said, turning back to fiddle with the camera. "Potential recruit for what, might I ask?"

"I'd like to offer you a job that probably offers better pay than you're making fixing that camera." The man said simply. "One that fully employs your unique set of skills."

Andrew fixed the problem the camera had, and turned to address the man fully. "My unique set of skills?"

The man nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely!" He held up his hands, listing off in rapid-fire, his words slipping into Japanese as he numbered off by his fingers. "Large and varied intake of information ranging from Biology and Chemistry to Ancient and Modern History, practical experience in electromechanical engineering, successful command of a volunteer squad for the last two and a half years, recognized as an orange belt in several varied forms of martial arts, graduated in the top third of his class with a double Associate's Degree in Military History and Leadership, and still finding time to research and jointly publish an alternative history work on how this world might be different had we Japanese not decimated your fleet at Pearl Harbor!" He paused to take a breath. "Putting aside your rather interesting Personal Psychological Profile, the only problem is that you've got _absolutely_ no experience in or around Mashin no Senshi."

Andrew blinked. "How do you know about the Pearl Project? The only people who know about that are my co-writers and I. We haven't told anyone about it yet because we're worried about controversy."

The man nodded, and adjusted his glasses. "Yes, yes. Let's just say that I have a very long-reaching network of informants."

"He talked to both of your co-writers," said a new voice, this one female. She seemed the perfect foil to the man. Whereas he was tall, overly energetic, and dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, she was about Andrew's height, reserved, and was wearing a uniform that answered quite a few of Andrew's question when he realized that he'd seen it before. He gave the two a quick bow.

"My apologies. I didn't realize that I was talking to Kyoto Foundation's Mapper Corps." The Kyoto Foundation was the frontrunner in the global arms race for what had colloquially become known as Pilot-Assisted Combat Frames. Kyoto's Military Application and Experimental Research, or MAppER, Corps was in charge of taking in battlefield data of existing frames in operation to see how they could be improved, as well as being in charge of Japan's experimental Frame design based on that data.

The woman nodded. "At ease. Suffice to say, we'd like to put you through some work in the simulators before we accept you into the Corps, but-"

"But there really shouldn't be any problems!" The man interrupted. "I have the utmost confidence in your abilities!"

Andrew smiled. "Well, my shift's over in a little bit, anyways. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to finish up here before moving on."

The man looked like he was about to start whining when the woman cut in. "Of course. Finish up with whatever it is that you're doing, then come and see us." She walked forward, scribbling something into her notepad before tearing the page out and handing it to Andrew. "Here's our current temporary address. We're still in the process of setting up, but our labs on base should be ready to go pretty soon."

Andrew took the piece of paper, and saluted. The woman returned his salute. "I'm Captain Hikari. My superior here is Colonel Tatsu."

Andrew nodded. "I'll be there shortly."

Colonel Tatsu nodded. "We'll be waiting for you!"

As they left, Andrew sighed in relief. Recently, his ability to read minds had mellowed out so that it wasn't constantly giving him involuntary input at such an insane level. He could never truly turn it off, he'd discovered, but the lowest level of activation was still useful. Whoever these people were, they were the genuine article. They were being truthful.

Still, they were definitely extremely interested in seeing him tested, if the Kyoto Technology output scrambler he'd removed from the camera was of any indication. Something told him that it was Tatsu's doing, and that same something told him he'd never be able to get Tatsu to admit to it. Regardless, he was interested in seeing what Kyoto's Mappers had in store.

* * *

"Well, that was..." Tatsu seemed to be struggling to find his voice as Andrew stepped out of the simulation cockpit.

Hikari was much more direct. "Average. Your performance was just below average for a typical military pilot, and nowhere near the benchmark we look for with experimental pilots."

Andrew rubbed at the back of his neck. "I guess I'm just not a pilot."

Tatsu shook his head. "I'd had such high hopes for you!" He sighed. "I guess we should count ourselves lucky to have you as you are." He smiled. "Well, you've been run through the simulator. Welcome to the Mapper Corps!"

Andrew frowned. "You mean that I'm in, even with a lower sim score?"

Tatsu nodded. "The sim is to determine whether or not you'll be used as a test pilot for the experimental frames we develop. Your scores in the sims have put you much closer to the bottom of that list than I'd have liked. However, your other skills are still extremely valuable to us, and if you're interested, we'd like to keep you on!"

Andrew nodded. "It'd be an honor, sir."

Tatsu clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Go back to your bunk and get a decent night's sleep. You'll be reporting here at 1530 hours!"

* * *

It was another fifteen-minute commute back to the base from the school. He was already thinking about tomorrow: the Mappers wanted him in the afternoon, so he'd stay on the school's maintenance staff during the mornings. That meant helping the early birds that had already started moving in, and in three more days, school would start. Andrew had gotten the rudimentary stuff out of the way in community college, and was looking forward to some decent class opportunities, especially-

He bumped right into someone, spilling their bags out onto the path. "Shit, I'm sorry." He said, instinctively using his native English.

"No, it's alright, I wasn't lookin-"

There were a few subtle differences from earlier. Her black hair was hanging loosely about her head, rather than in the ponytail it had been in earlier. The fake leather jacket and t-shirt had been replaced with the Academy's uniform, the torn jeans with a perfectly-pressed skirt to her knees. However, the splint over her right leg was all the proof that he needed to confirm her identity.


End file.
